Ten Ways It Should've Ended, And The One Way It Did
by AimeeCollins
Summary: Ten drabbles, varying from 100-600 words on how Merlin should've ended, and a drabble on how it did end. No slash. Bromance. Tragedy. For everyone who's been left with a big, gaping hole after watching the last ever finale.
1. Chapter 1

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **I'm not upset with how Merlin ended. I'm not angry, or sad. I do agree with many other fans that there were better ways for Mordred and Morgana to die. I felt disappointed, that Morgana didn't seem to regret anything that she'd done. I'd hoped for that. I'd never expected Merlin to cold-bloodedly murder her. I wish that that had never happened.

I know that the traditional drabble is a 100 words. I'm not going to keep myself to that: I want to be able to write as much as I want to, the way I want to. All of these will unbeta'd and most of them won't have been looked over before publishing.

In some ways, us fans are mourning. Deaths on a TV-show can of course never be compared to deaths in real life, in the real world, but for some of us, they feel just as bad.

**ONE WAY IT SHOULD HAVE ENDED…**

Merlin was flung off the hill. He should've known, he should've expected it, when the horses had made a run for it. But he'd never expected her to make it this far. He'd never expected her hate to go far enough for her to thwart them in the last minute: Arthur was dying and she _knew_ that.

Wasn't that enough? The air was forced out of his lungs when he hit the soft, damp ground with a _thud. _The soft, dewy grass brushed across his skin and left teardrops on his cheek.

'_Don't worry brother dearest, you won't die alone. I'll be here to watch over you.'_

Merlin used all of his strength to lift himself up. Morgana was right next to him, only a shadow of the powerful, proud witch that she'd once been: her hair was one big mess, her face was dirty, her dress was ripped and stained. Arthur moved his hand toward his sheath, but his sword wasn't there. Excalibur wasn't at his side and neither was his manservant.

Merlin's hand was wrapped around it's hilt.

She heard him coming and laughed.

'_I'm a High Priestess,' _she taunted, the emphasis on the last syllable. High Priest_ess_. '_No mortal blade can slay me_.'

The blade descended into her stomach, tearing through her dress and her skin. She gasped, her eyes wide and her face pale.

'_This is no mortal blade.' _Merlin breathed, barely audible enough for Arthur to hear. He stared at them from his place on the ground, unable to say anything, unable to interfere.

'_It's forged of the dragon's breath_. _I blame myself for what you've become, Morgana, but this has to end._'

He released her. She sank to the ground, her weak form shaking from head to toe. Her fingers curled into fists, before she met the ground and they scraped over the ground, searching for anything to hold on to, to clutch the life that she was already void of.

'_Please, help me…' _she begged, and Merlin looked down upon her with an unreadable expression, even though she and Arthur could both see the agony that swam underneath those blue depths that were his eyes. She lifted her arm, stretching it out to him weakly, trembling.

'_Is this really what you wanted, Morgana?' _he asked, though he did not sound angry. The hate that had been in his voice when he'd said that it had to end was gone. She only heard remorse and regret.

'_Camelot deserves a Queen who can restore magic.' _she spat stubbornly, her desperation already forgotten, mock and pity fighting for domination within her, upon seeing how weak Emrys really was.

The raven haired man shook his head sadly, looking more like the boy that had first stepped into Camelot years ago than ever before.

'_Goodbye, Morgana._'

And then the blade was embedded into her chest, straight through her heart, and the witch was no more.


	2. Chapter 2

**TWO WAYS IT SHOULD HAVE ENDED…**

Gwaine always was a loyal knight, no matter what. Even when he was drunk, no secrets of Camelot would ever pass his lips. Even when he was tortured by swords and daggers, he would keep his lips tightly shut and wait for a chance to escape.

Even when Morgana had captured him, he hadn't spoken to her.

He'd made the mistake of telling secrets to Eira, because he trusted her, because they'd joined together as one in his bed. He thought he could trust her. He shouldn't have.

So when Morgana opened the wooden chest to reveal the black snake that slithered out of it and hissed at him, Gwaine knew that no matter what, he would keep his lips sealed.

Swords he could take. Daggers he could take. Even white-hot iron he could take. But the magical power of the serpent were too much. He couldn't take it.

In the end, the words escaped from his lips. They flowed off his tongue like a flooding river.

When Percival found him, all he could think was _I failed, I failed, I failed._

It went on and on like a cadence that would never stop.

But when his best friend found him, he found comfort in his words.

_You didn't fail._

And Strength got up on his feet to fight for his King.


	3. Chapter 3

**THREE WAYS IT SHOULD HAVE ENDED…**

Mordred snuck closer toward Arthur. The King hadn't yet sensed his presence and he knew that he had to act fast. He knew that Emrys was close, for he'd seen the warlock send bolts of lightning toward their warriors, he'd seen how they'd fallen, one by one.

The King's head lifted only a bit higher, but the druid boy did not see it.

When he brought down his blade, forged in a dragon's breath, it was met by another.

For one second Knight and King looked at each other, eyes locked, different emotions spreading over their faces.

Until Mordred pulled his blade away and saw the opening that he'd been waiting for. He could strike, right now, and he would hit target. Arthur would never stand a chance against his sword.

'_Mordred.'_ the King whispered, his voice sounding careful and his movements minimal, as if he was afraid that he would invoke the former knight's rage.

The Knight stared at Arthur for a few seconds, feeling torn. It was his Destiny to kill the king. Fate urged for him to fulfil it: he could feel it's force battling for domination over his magic, his innocence and his good heart.

'_I gave her a chance to repent her crimes. I had no choice._'

The words struck him like lightning. The young boy screamed in agony, drove his blade into the ground and was consumed by a raging inferno of fire.

The only thing that was left in his wake were ashes.

Arthur and Merlin scattered them in the Lake of Avalon, together.

In the end Merlin saw that he couldn't have saved Arthur.

Mordred had.


	4. Chapter 4

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **Sorry for everyone who thought that I updated another drabble. I'm practically out of idea's, expect for one, but I want to use that as the last 'Should-have' drabble. So if anyone has any prompts for me to work out, do tell!


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